He Who Laughs Last
by xBlackRabbitx
Summary: Set after the events of the Dark Knight. The Joker has escaped, and Batman is furious. However, events take an unexpected turn... Rated for language, violence, and a little something else... Posted again because I didn't do proper chapters the first time
1. Chapter 1

**Ahoy hoy. Friendly neighbourhood disclaimer guy here. I do not own Batman or anything related. Nor do I own several bits of dialogue, as I've been sneaky and used some direct quotes. This is my first ever fan fiction, so R&R is appreciated. Thankyou!**

"This is a _nice_ suit." The man twirled theatrically in front of the mirror, giggling slightly. "Put it on my tab, won't you?"

The shop assistant groaned, hand clutching the wound in her side, trying to stop her innards from spilling out.  
"That's the way!" He grinned, licking his lips. "Although I do recommend you clean this mirror. I can barely see a thing."  
With that, he removed his silver knife from the neck of another shop assistant, using it to pin something to the blood-stained mirror, and waltzed out of the store. The girl with her innards spinning out began to sob, desperately pulling her feet out of the way of the flames now engulfing one of Gotham's ritziest boutiques. Blood trickled from the fatal neck wound of the dead man. Flaming Italian suits crackled and disintegrated, thousands of dollars worth of silk and hand-stitched seams that would never be anyone's perfect fit.  
And, stuck to the mirror, slightly worn, slightly bent, slightly bloody, a jester, a harlequin, a fool, a playing card. A Joker.

Bruce Wayne relaxed into his luxurious bed for the first time in months. He felt a new-found appreciation for swan down and Egyptian cotton. Maybe Wayne Industries should make some investments in manchester.  
Bruce reached out a fumbling hand for the alarm clock; mid-afternoon. Yawning, he rolled onto his side. Then, wincing, onto the other side; he'd forgotten about those stitches. But hopefully, they would be the last. Hopefully, with the Joker safely locked away in Arkham Asylum's most high-security ward, in an especially designed cell, Gotham might not need the Batman anymore. Without the Joker, wasn't Gotham just another American city? Sure, it had its problems, but so did Chicago, New York, Washington. Nothing the feds couldn't handle, right?  
Wrong, of course. Bruce grimaced. Gotham had needed Batman before the Joker had even arrived on the scene, before the day when the first seeds of Batman had even planted themselves in the mind of a young Bruce Wayne. But surely, with Gotham's _most_ dangerous criminal behind bars, Bruce Wayne, billionaire playboy and eligible bachelor could have one weekend of sleep-ins and supermodels?  
"Master Wayne?"  
Wrong again. The long serving butler to the family Wayne, Alfred, entered Bruce's room bearing a silver tray. Bruce was pleased to see what appeared to be breakfast, but disappointed at the crisp, neatly folded newspaper that accompanied it.  
"Even on my day off, Alfred?" Bruce complained, propping himself up on his elbows. "Bats are nocturnal."  
"That may be, but even for billionaire playboys, three o'clock is pushing it." Alfred replied in his bracing Cockney accent, setting the tray down.  
"Can't the world take a break for one day? I'm tired of having to always pay attention. I have a board of executives for that."  
"Begging your pardon, sir, but I don't think this is one for the board of executives."  
Bruce took a sip of scalding coffee as he shook out the newspaper, which he promptly spit out angrily, spraying the huge grainy black-and-white image of a madman with premium Brazilian roast.

**Madman Escapes Again**

**Will We Ever Be Safe?**

**Once again, Gotham's most dangerous criminal is back on the streets, begging the question, exactly where was the Joker put this time? Police claimed last week that he was placed in a specially built ward of Arkham Asylum designed to be inescapable. Apparently not.  
A well-known tailor's store of some repute on Main Street was broken into and torched last night, with the store workers both horribly murdered. Pinned to the mirror was the Joker's calling card.  
Workers at Arkham refuse to confirm or deny the escape of the Joker, but this reporter thinks it is clear they are merely trying to cover their backsides for yet another piece of administrative failure. (story continued on page 3)**

Bruce scrunched the paper up and threw it aside. One of the Joker's eyes stared madly at him from the corner of the room, its pupil dilated and the iris rimmed with white.  
"How did this happen, Alfred? How can he be loose again?" Bruce stood angrily, grabbing a pair of pants off the floor and pulling them up over his boxer shorts. "Why didn't you come wake me as soon as the paper arrived?"  
He tore out of the room, pulling a T-shirt over his head. Alfred gazed at the silver tray with Bruce's untouched breakfast on it, going cold; bacon, French toast and a freshly squeezed orange juice which he still made for Bruce every morning, even though his hands were now arthritic and the motion caused him pain.  
"I didn't wake you, Master Bruce, because you're right. Everyone deserves a break every once in a while. Even superheroes." Alfred sighed, then shuffled out after his master.

Back on the streets of his beloved Gotham. In Gotham city, anything goes. They say that America is the only country in the world where a poor black boy could become a rich white woman. Well, Gotham was similar. It was the only city in the world where a scarred madman could become the Clown Prince of Crime, villain extraordinaire, the worst/best of them all. Of course, the Joker liked to think that every city in the world was susceptible to his particular brand of charm. Blow up enough buildings, kill enough women and children, and any city was your oyster. Kill enough politicians, maybe even the pope, and the whole damn _world_was your oyster. Not that the Joker was particularly concerned with the rest of the world. Right now, all he cared about was bringing Gotham a better brand of criminal. Smarter, madder, more ruthless. And funnier, too. Add to that his boyish good looks and charming personality and who could resist? _Hee hee haw haw...  
_Of course, there was that one person who didn't seem to understand. He was so similar to the Joker, why didn't he get it? The purple-coated madman glared at Batman's symbol through the rain, illuminated against the clouds in a yellow spotlight. The Bat-man was the only thing stopping him from bringing Gotham city to its fullest potential. Despite that, the Batman was the one thing the Joker couldn't resist. No matter how many times you threatened him, he never backed off. No matter how many times you hit him, he never fell down. No matter _what _ you did, he always came back.  
The Joker looked back at the symbol in the sky, but this time with respect. As irritating as the Bat-man was, he was a _real _man, not one of the countless snivelling hordes the Joker usually dealt with. The ones who cried and begged and wet themselves. Not that they weren't _fun_, but the Batman was truly something else. The Joker raised a gloved hand in mock salute.  
"Maybe if you meant it, we wouldn't be in this situation." A deep voice growled behind him. The Joker whipped around to see a figure in the shadows. A flash of lightning illuminated his silhouette; a flowing cape with jagged ends, a muscular body enhanced by a Kevlar suit and bright, angry eyes. _Those eyes_...  
The Joker grinned, spreading his arms as though expecting an embrace. "Miss me, Batsy?" He cackled, hysterical laughter mixing with the sounds of the night, rain and thunder and screeching tyres. Here they were again, madman and vigilante in the greatest city on Earth. Maybe this would be the last time, but probably not. The Joker didn't particularly care. All he cared about now was this moment, the rain causing his make-up to run down his face in rivulets and his greatest enemy swooping towards him, eyes flashing, rain gliding over his armour.  
The _Batman_.


	2. Chapter 2

I'm so, sorry to all the people who read this and then have me delete it on them... truly, I'm sorry! There's five chapters, and I keep accidentally uploading the whole thing. Please forgive me! I'll try and get it all up very quickly to make up for it. Quick disclaimer- I own nothing, I just bastardise it. If you can find it in your hearts to review, even though I'm such a douche, I would greatly appreciate it!

As soon as Bruce had read the article, he was on his way to the batcave. In a surprisingly short time, he was in his suit and on the Bat-pod, racing through the streets of Gotham. Normally he wouldn't be out in the day time, particularly now there was an ample reward on his head -from the police, no less, after the death of Harvey Dent and Batman taking the blame- but today, the sky was so black with cloud and the rain so heavy it took considerable effort to keep control of his vehicle, today Batman felt justified in breaking his normal habits. For the Joker, he'd be willing to do anything. Maybe even break his one rule.  
It wasn't long before he found the Joker. A man like that wasn't concerned in covering up his tracks. Batman ditched the bike and followed him on foot, waiting for some place where their inevitable fight wouldn't cause too much collateral. Eventually the Joker turned down a quiet alleyway. This was one of those parts of town that Bruce Wayne's father had tried hardest to help; the mismatched buildings claustrophobically close, heaps of garbage everywhere. Batman doubted a lot of the houses even had power. A suburb home to drug addicts, petty criminals, prostitutes, run-aways and workers on minimum wage with nowhere else to go, on the edge of becoming yet more pieces of Gotham's industrial waste.  
Batman sneered at the Joker's mock salute. He would teach that two-bit harlequin the meaning of respect. Standing tall, he shouted out a greeting. A flash of lightning illuminated the Joker's features; death make-up highlighting scars that formed a hideous, terrifying grin, manic eyes with dilated pupils surrounded by black smears. The red-rimmed cave of terror that was the Joker's smile opened even wider to show yellow teeth, and a maddened cackle burst forth from between his wet lips. Batman sneered again at Joker's immature salutation, but inwardly he was fighting the urge to flinch. He could handle all the criminals Gotham had to offer; mob bosses, seductive environmentalists, penguins, petty crims, feminine felines, psychiatrists more crazy than their patients. But the Joker... he was different. He pushed buttons Batman didn't even know he had, rubbed him in places he didn't even know existed. He made Batman want to abandon everything he believed in. It was with this thought that Batman tensed his legs, leaning forward for the pounce, then jumped forward. He took two long strides, then he was in the air, coming down on the Joker like the wrath of Hades.  
He knocked the Joker to the ground, landing a right-hook square on his jaw. The Joker merely laughed harder, before Batman lifted him by the hair and slammed his head into the pavement. The laughter became a little more subdued. However, before Batman could land the next punch, the Joker produced a knife from one of the many pockets now sewn into his purple Italian suit jacket and stabbed at Batman's abdomen. He managed to slip the blade between two of the suit's armoured plates, creating a shallow cut in Batman's side. He slipped out from underneath the grunting superhero, running (or rather, stumbling) further down the alleyway, laughing all the while. Batman staggered to his feet, clutching his side. The wound was painful, but was not at all likely to kill him. He quickly made off after the Joker, catching up to him in just a few strides. He grabbed the Joker's jacket, yanking him backwards and throwing him to the ground. The Italian silk quickly soaked up the dirt and scum from the ground, ruining the jacket forever. The Joker liked that. Even the finest could be rubbed in the dirt. It made him laugh, even louder than before.  
Batman stomped on the Joker's crotch, then punched him in the nose, shattering the fragile cartilage. Even huddled over in pain, with blood pouring down his face, the Joker would not stop laughing! Batman grabbed him by the front of the shirt, pulling him up until his feet dangled off the ground.  
"You're not getting away this time, Joker." He growled, almost shaking with the effort of restraint. "You're going to be locked away for ever, you hear me?"  
The Joker cocked his head, licking his lips and grinning. "In another one of your _inescapable_ cells? That's what you said _last_ time." His voice was slightly higher than usual, due to the recent groin injury, but by no means less disdainful, no less menacing, no less maniacal. "You can't keep me away from this city, Batman."  
"This city is better than you. You should have learned from your little _social experiment_ that this city is full of people who want a better world than the one you're 'offering' them."  
The Joker merely rolled his eyes, running his tongue over his lips. "You don't understand this city as well as you think you do."  
Batman slammed him into a wall, trying to get him to shut up. He needed something, anything, to get this madman to be quiet. _Nothing_ ever seemed to work well enough.  
Joker blinked a few times on impact, shaking his head vigorously. "Would you just... let me speak? For two minutes? Honestly, you're gonna have to learn to stop _hitting_ people. You're so..."  
He was cut off by Batman slamming his head against the wall. He shook his head again, giving Batman a patronising look that seemed to say 'really? Are you serious? Have you not been paying any attention to me, you muscle-bound moron?'.  
"You can speak all you want when you're alone in your padded cell." Batman growled at him.  
"I'm t_rying_ to make an important piece of social commentary." The Joker paused, waiting to see if he was going to get hit again. Batman remained silent, so he continued.  
"You see, I'm just one facet of the..."-he paused, licking his lips-"_rough diamond_ that is Gotham City. Every time you try and _improve_ this city, by chipping away at its criminals, you diminish its_ value_. Already, this city's worth, I don't know, maybe twenty percent less than it was before you arrived. So, if you get rid of me, your city becomes even_ less_ valuable!" The Joker grinned as though this was the simplest thing in the world.  
Batman sneered, unimpressed with the Joker's philosophies. He raised his fist for a punch that would incapacitate his victim sufficiently enough for him to get the Joker into custody, when he noticed a red point flickering on the wall next to him. It was only there for a moment, but the Joker noticed it too.  
"Finally, my boys have arrived!" The Joker grinned, giggling a little as realisation dawned on Batman's face, swiftly followed by anger. _A trap_


	3. Chapter 3

_Again, my apologies for the fact that I keep deleting this and r-uploading this and who knows what's going on. I'm so sorry, truly I am! *cries* Bludgeon me to death if you must. Anyway, disclaimer: I own nothing, and I don't deserve to. Do I even need to put disclaimers at the start of every chapter? Have I even put them at the start of every chapter? I don't know. I fail at life. Please kill me. _

Around ten snipers were (visibly) surrounding Batman. Their grim, ugly clown masks peered out from behind windows and gun barrels, spearing Batman with pinpricks of crimson light. Batman growled, seeing no possible exit. This time, the joke was on him.  
While he was distracted, the Joker socked him in the jaw. Batman staggered, and the Joker swung again, splitting his lip and smearing blood over glove and cheek. Two more masked goons appeared from the shadows with aluminium bats, swinging at every inch of the caped and cowled vigilante they could reach. Occasionally they hid made-up madman, but their boss didn't seem to mind; he merely laughed and kicked and punched. When Batman tried to fight back, the air reverberated with the sound of cocking guns. Yet more of the Joker's henchmen appeared with enormous Rottweilers, straining against glistening choke chains. The Joker waved his hand, and the dogs were released, jumping at Batman and sinking slobbering fangs into every inch of him they could reach. He swung his fists desperately, but gradually they began to connect with more air than flesh, and his enemies began to overwhelm him.  
Finally defeated, the dark knight fell limp, and the clowns closed in.

When Batman came to, he found himself bound by the wrists from the ceiling. His feet trailed on the ground, tied together at the ankles. Blinking through the pain that consumed his entire body, Batman tried to scope his surroundings; the room was bare and damp, with peeling, mouldy walls and a sagging, dripping ceiling. The Joker sat before him on a ragged red velvet armchair (the only furniture in the room), twirling one of Batman's stylised throwing knives and grinning.  
"Welcome home, Batsy."  
Batman growled, struggling violently against his bonds. _ Damn him. Damn him to hell._  
"Now now, no need to get _too_ excited." The Joker reprimanded, waggling a finger. "We don't want you to hurt yourself."  
Batman lunged at him, almost dislocating a shoulder in the process. "Let me go, Joker!" He growled.  
"Why on earth would I go to all this trouble just to _let you go_?" The Joker asked, apparently shocked at Batman's stupidity. "You're not an easy man to get a hold of, you know."  
Batman growled, pulling and wriggling desperately. He couldn't believe he'd let this happen; helpless in the Joker's clutches! The Clown Prince merely sat and stared, eyes bright with glee at the Bat-man's misfortune. For what seemed like an age it was silent, the only noise Batman's hopeless twists and grunts and the wet smacking of the Joker's lips. Occasionally water would drip from the greying ceiling, or some small, unseen creature would scurry about on its own business across the decaying linoleum floor.  
The Joker's knots were inescapable; you didn't become an insane criminal mastermind without learning a few tricks along the way. Finally Batman, exhausted with effort, fell limp. Immediately the Joker jumped up with glee, half-skipping over to Batman and holding the bat-shaped knife to his throat.  
"So glad you finally decided you wanted to talk, Batsy. Really, we should catch up more often. It's been too long!" The Joker giggled, metal cutting into flesh, drawing the thinnest trickle of blood. Batman merely grimaced.  
"Come on, all out of energy? Can't have that now, can we?" The Joker giggled, slapping Bruce's face with the back of his gloved hand. "Come on, lets see some of that _spark_. "  
Batman looked obstinately away, and an all new kind of grin came over the Joker's face. "Look at me, Batsy. Come on, look at me. _Look at me_!" The Joker grabbed his face, and his voice dropped to a truly terrifying growl. It sent the same kind of shiver through Batman that he tried to instil in criminals with his own harsh, gravelly growl. He wrenched Batman's face towards him, mad giggle reaching fever pitch as Bruce obliged.  
"Tut tut, Batsy. So much hatred, can't have that. You need to _smile_." The Joker drew a finger dramatically across his scars, before returning the knife to Batman's throat. "You know, I never did get a chance to tell you how I _got_ these scars."  
Batman glared at the Joker, but the purple-suited madman was on a roll now; he had an audience, and nothing was going to interrupt his performance. With much waving of hands and licking of lips, he proceeded to tell his newest story.  
"I had this _rival_ all through school, since kindy, _really_. You know how it is, there's always someone fighting to be _top_ of the playground. Anyway, we get into high school, and there's always this _jealousy_ between us. Both us wants to be the best. So one day, I play this _prank_. I _humiliate_ him in front of _everyone_. Just like that, he's the most unpopular person in school, and I'm king of the playground. And you know what? I _love_ it. But this guy, this rival of mine, now he _hates_ me, worse than ever. Can you imagine that, Batsy? Hm? He hates me _so much_. The anger builds up inside him, eating away at him, until one day he _snaps_!" Batman jumped at the sudden emphasis, and the Joker cackled in delight.  
"Shush shush, Batsy. We're just getting to the good bit. Now this guy, this _rival_ of mine, he snaps, and he snaps big time. I'm coming out of school one day, all on my lonesome, and he jumps out from behind a tree. _'Gonna make you pay'_, he says. _'Gonna make you pay for what you did.' _ Then he gets this switchblade, see, and pins me up against a tree, and he holds the knife up to my face, and he says _'You made everyone laugh at me, Jack. You think it's funny?'_ And he sticks the knife in my mouth. _'Think it's funny, Jack? You think what you did is funny?'_ And then he _cuts_ me, slices my face right open!_'Who's laughing now?!'_ he screams at me, _laughs_ at me, and you know what? I laugh with him. I laugh so _goddam_ hard, he begins to get scared. 'Cause you know what, Batsy? I'd snapped too. An' he's looking at me, he's looking at me with my face cut open, and he's _scared_. An' I like that. I like that a _lot_. He drops the knife, an' I pick it up, an' I reach up and touch the side of my face that he's cut up, an' I realise he _hasn't finished the job_. So I grab the knife, and I slice open my other cheek, so now I've got a nice, big _grin_ on my face. An' my rival, he's so goddam scared now he's got piss running down his legs, and he starts to _beg_ and _plead_ with me. I don't like the snivelling tone he's taken, understand? It shits me off real bad, so now I throw _him_ against a tree, and I'm the one going at _him_ with a knife, and now _he's_ the one bleeding. I watch the _life_ leave his eyes, and it's the best goddam feeling in the _world_. You should try it sometime. Taking someone's life can be so... _liberating_."  
The Joker finished his rant with a final flourish, spinning suddenly and flinging the knife savagely into his velvet chair, where imbedded itself in the threadbare plush with a _thunk_. Batman stared coldly at him, mouth set in a grim line. The Joker pouted back, then jumped over and grabbed him by the face again.  
"Come on, Batsy. _Smile_ for me, will ya?" He shook Batman by the shoulders, peering into the masked man's eyes with a startling intensity. His only response was a steely glare.  
"You really need to let loose a little, Batsy. Have a little _fun_ once in a while. Life can't be all capes, cowls and creatures of the night," the Joker lectured, waggling a finger. "You have to _let go_ of all that anger built up inside, ya know? It's not good for you. You need to _vent your spleen_."  
Batman remained obstinately silent. The Joker leaned back, putting a thoughtful finger to his chin and pouting.  
"I suppose this is what happens when an unstoppable force meets and immovable object, hm? You are truly incorruptible, aren't you?" The Joker gave a jerky little shake of his head and licked his lips. "Alright then, we're gonna have to liven things up a little. Let's _take off that mask_."


	4. Chapter 4

_One more chapter to go! And I'm doing this chapter right the first time... I think. Anyway, obligatory disclaimer: As much as I really, really want to, I don't own Batman or any affiliated what-have-you's. Enjoy! R&R?_

"_No!/i_" Batman jerked his head back, finding new energy as he tried to squirm his way out of the Joker's grasp.  
"Just... just _hold still_. You know, you're being most _unco-operative_." The Joker tried to get a firm grip on Bruce Wayne's mask, attempting to wrench it off. All of a sudden he yelped and jumped back, laughing. "Now now, Batsy. Play nice! No biting, please."  
Batman growled and bared his teeth, lunging at the Joker. Once again, his restraints jerked him back. Once again, he fell passive under the Joker's gaze.  
"Tut tut, haven't you already tried that one?" The Joker laughed, pulling off his glove to inspect his finger; Bruce's teeth had broken through both the leather and the Joker's skin, and blood was pumping down his wrist. "Remind me not to ask you for a blow-job."  
The Joker laughed, thrusting his bleeding finger into Batman's face. Batman shuddered and turned away as the Joker wiped blood onto batman's lips and cheeks, creating a wet, crimson grin.  
"There, now we even _look_ alike! Because we are, Batsy. Alike, I mean. You're just a freak, like me!" The Joker cackled, thumping himself on the chest to emphasise his point (or maybe it was just another affectation; who could tell?). "And you know what? The only thing separating us from everyone else, all those 'normal people', all those _head-cases_ out there, is _one bad day_. You had a bad day once, am I right? I can _tell_." His voice dropped, becoming more normal, perhaps even a little sad.  
"One bad day, and everything changed." Suddenly he gave a quick burst of laughter, grabbing one of Batman's false ears and tugging. "Why else would you dress up like a _flying rat_?!"  
"You wanna know why I wear this mask?" Batman growled.  
The Joker rocked on the balls of his feet, clapping his hands in delight. "We have life! Please Batsy, tell me your little _sob story_. I'm just _dying_ to know." He leaned in close, eyes burning with a real curiosity that wasn't entirely evident in his sarcastic tone.  
"I wear this mask because it's harder than your skull." He jerked his head forward, head-butting the Joker firmly in the temple.  
The Joker staggered back, clutching his head. He fell to his knees, stunned. Stars swam before his eyes. He shook his head vigorously, then whipped his head up to stare at Batman with a vicious grin twisting his scarred features.  
"Naughty, _naughty_ boy. Can't have that now, can we?"  
The Joker shook his head again, then staggered to his feet. He stumbled a little and almost fell, but managed to stay upright. He stumbled forward, grabbing Batman by the shoulders and bringing his face so close that Bruce could feel his warm, wet breath on his face. The Joker's knife glinted menacingly under his chin. He scowled; he'd been hoping that blow would knock the Joker out, giving Bruce time to think. Obviously, he'd underestimated the Joker once again.  
"I'm going to have to punish you for that one, Batsy. That won't do _at all_."  
The Joker pushed the knife delicately into the flesh of Batman's throat, drawing a trickle of blood. It mixed with the blood still pumping from his finger, dripping onto the floor with a soft _plip_ sound, echoed by the drips of water from the ceiling. Batman clenched his teeth, instinctively leaning away from the blade, but the Joker pulled him forwards, slipping a hand behind his head and wrenching him closer.  
"I'm gonna have to teach you a _lesson_, Batsy." The madman hissed, a bubble of laughter escaping his throat.  
In that moment, Batman could see every detail of the Joker's face; the fine lines around his mouth and eyes; the cracks in his white face paint; the exact smears of black around the crazed, hungry eyes; the way the garish red lipstick mashed into the twisted contortions of scars that still remained a mystery; the locks of greasy, green-tinged hair that fell rebelliously into his face. Strong emotions coursed their way through his body; hatred, anger, a little unwanted fear, and something he found altogether more sinister.  
Batman shut his eyes as the jaws of death closed in.


	5. Chapter 5

_The last chapter! Yaaaay! Please bear in mind that this is the first fan fiction I've ever written ever, so feedback is much appreciated. Disclaimer: I own nothing, etc. Thanks for reading! And putting up with my incompetence... Hehe._

The jaws of death were surprisingly pleasant. A little wet, but warm and soft. Batman moaned a little at the pleasant sensation, and the pressure increased. Suddenly his eyes snapped open and he jerked his head back. The Joker was _kissing_ him.  
"Wh-what do you think you're doing?!" Batman cried, voice closer to Bruce Wayne's than to his usual fearsome growl.  
"Batsy, Batsy, Batsy. You didn't honestly think I would _kill_ you?" His voice dropped, becoming husky. "What would I do _without_ you? You. _Complete_. Me.""  
He moved closer, running a finger along Batman's jaw. His only response was a violent jerk away from his hand.  
"You know what your problem is, Batsy dear? You haven't learnt to _expect_ the _unexpected_. It's all those _rules_ of yours. You need to let _go_, stop thinking of things as being so _black-and-white_. The only sensible way to live in this world is without rules!"  
With that he grabbed Batman by the back of the neck and violently mashed their lips together. His tongue invaded Batman's mouth, hot and wet and urgent. Batman tried his best to pull away, but the Joker had him firmly held in place. Gloved hands crept all over his suited body, trying to find a way in. He struggled violently for what felt like an age, before Batman finally realised it was useless trying to fight back _his_ way. Sometimes violence just wasn't the answer, particularly when dealing with the Joker. It was time to introduce a little anarchy.  
The Joker's tongue was still in his mouth, and this time Batman met it with his. The momentary surprise this caused allowed him the opportunity he had been waiting for, and he bit down hard on the Joker's lip. His teeth punctured skin and he tasted the salty tang of blood. The Joker staggered back, licking blood off his lips and laughing. His mad cackling reached fever pitch and he swung his fist wildly at Batman's face, almost falling over, but still managing to shatter Bruce's nose for what must have been the hundredth time since they met in the alley. Batman cried out in pain, the taste of the Joker's blood now mingling with his own.  
Still laughing, the Joker grabbed him by the neck again and mashed their faces together. Batman could feel the barely contained laughter shaking Joker's body as his mouth was once again invaded. Against the blinding rage he noticed the hot breath blasting his face was surprisingly sweet. He'd expected someone like the Joker to have very poor dental hygiene, but Bruce Wayne had made love to supermodels who smelled worse. The thought brought back that uncomfortable feeling, the one which stirred his loins and made him sweat.  
Normally Batman channelled his anger into his fists, beating criminals into submission. Now, the Joker was attempting to kiss him into submission. And Batman always fought back.  
This fight was a battle of hot mouths and wet tongues, soft moans and nipping teeth. This wasn't what Batman had been trained for, but Bruce Wayne was. This was the chief pastime of billionaire playboys, and Bruce used that knowledge to his advantage. He couldn't fight the Joker, but he would still win.  
Without his hands, Bruce's power was limited (although if he had the use of his hands he wouldn't be in this situation). However, he was still talented with his lips and tongue. Before long he had the Joker moaning, letting Bruce kiss his throat and bite gently at his earlobe.  
The Joker had use of his hands, but Batman's body was encased in a seemingly impenetrable suit. Still, he ran his hands over every conceivable inch of Batman's body, rubbing and stroking and looking for a way in. It was a little difficult for him to concentrate with that hot tongue in his mouth, making his body respond in ways which Harley Quinn had never quite managed with all her beautiful sweetness. Before long he'd given up trying to get Batman out of his suit, focusing instead on bringing their bodies as close as possible together and letting the masked man have his way.  
Bruce brushed his lips against the Joker's jaw, moving across to place a series of small kisses on his throat. The Joker gasped, rubbing his head against Batman's like a cat. Those lips kept kissing along his throat, pausing at his earlobe.  
"Untie me." Batman breathed, biting gently on Joker's ear.  
"Now now Batsy, you know I can't do that." The Joker muttered, trying not to moan in pleasure long enough to talk.  
"Untie me." Those lips we tracing the line of Joker's throat, giving him goose-bumps.  
"But Batsy..."  
"Untie me." Batman found the Joker's mouth, kissing him infuriatingly lightly on the lips.  
"Hhhmmmmppphhhhh..." The Joker tried to force those lips open, but Batman drew back.  
"Untie me." His normally threatening growl was a husky whisper, promising nothing but good things should the Joker comply. His eyes, normally burning with anger, now smouldered with passion. His mouth, normally sneering or set in a grim line, was curved in a beautifully seductive smile.  
"Untie me."  
The Joker sighed, pulling a knife from his sleeve. He ran his hands slowly up Batman's arms, keeping their bodies close. He stared into Batman's eyes, their faces millimetres apart. The knife sliced quickly and easily through the bonds, and the masked vigilante fell to the floor. Joker laughed, throwing himself down beside his prey.  
"Oh Batsy, this is going to be so much _fun_." He reached down to undo his belt, when he was flung suddenly across the room.  
"Sorry lover boy, but I don't fuck on the first date." Batman growled, picking up the knife and slashed the bonds around his ankles before rising to his feet.  
The Joker flapped his mouth open and shut, bizarrely at a loss for words. He had been so _sure_. He had seen the desire in Batman's eyes. How could he have been betrayed like this? How could he not have seen this coming? He was the Joker, the perfect example of everything that was wrong with human behaviour. He was the one who should never be trusted. He should be fucking Batman into the ground right now. But he wasn't. And you know what? That was pretty funny. That was goddam hilarious. God, it made him laugh.  
Hysterical laughter erupted from the Joker, filling the putrid room with its manic peals. Batman looked at the madman with disgust. The Joker had gone too far this time, and in response he'd had to sink to an all new low. Batman didn't use sex as a weapon. He left that to the she-cats. And he certainly didn't enjoy it. His body may have betrayed him (and painfully too-the suit left no room for desire), but his heart and mind were still filled with hate.  
So why did he feel something akin to regret looking at the cackling lunatic he'd thrown in the corner? He should be beating his senseless and handing him to the police. Instead, he was standing there, loins burning, half-wishing he was still tied up with the Joker's hands running over his body.  
No! He couldn't feel that way. He didn't feel that way. He gave one last hate-filled glare to the Joker, then turned haughtily, running his eyes over the room for the way out. A large window was set in the wall behind where he had been tied up. Looking out, Batman was surprised to see it was early morning. The skies were still grey with rain, but the sun was peeking timidly over the horizon.  
They were high enough for Batman to get a good view of the city. Gotham looked surprisingly beautiful, the early-morning sun reflecting off the raindrops and casting a fresh glow over the normally filthy city.  
Caught up in the startling beauty of the new day, Batman had not noticed that the laughter had stopped. He did notice however, when fingers circled his wrist, pulling him violently around. The Joker's manic face was inches from his, dark eyes staring up from black holes, sweet breath coming from a red grin. But the Joker wasn't smiling; beneath the scars, his look was pleading.  
"Stay." His voice was small, lacking the high lilt that normally characterised his tone.  
For once, he didn't sound insane; just small and alone. Batman felt a sudden twinge of incomprehensible pity for this man; eaten away by insanity, the Joker was a man forced by his own nature to do evil deeds. His madness had pushed him into a corner of his own life, only leaving him enough room for chaos. He would never know love or kindness, because he by nature shunned the positive sides of humanity. Batman did not pity him his life, but rather his lack of it.  
And yet, they must be enemies. That was their destiny. They would fight each other until it killed one or both of them. That was the synergy of their relationship; good and evil, light and dark, crazy and sane.  
Batman released himself gently from Joker's grip. The Joker let his hand fall to his side, where he curled it into a fist. Not an aggressive fist, but a gesture of frustrated resignation.  
"You know I can't stay." Batman growled. "If I stay, I have to take you in."  
"I know, Batsy. " Joker smiled ruefully, licking his lips.  
"Joker?"  
"Mm?"  
"Don't call me that."  
Batman swung round, running full pelt at the window. Smashing through the glass, he spread his cape wide and glided into the morning. A bat returning to his cave after being caught out too late. A vigilante returning to his hideout before the police found him. A playboy returning to bed after a big night.  
The Joker leaned against the frame of the broken window, watching Batman glide to the next building and drop out of sight. He giggled a little, running his hand through his greasy hair. A silver knife twirled between his fingers, flashing in the morning sun. Suddenly he dove a hand into his pocket, pulling out a sleek black mobile phone. He pressed a few buttons, then held the device to his ear.  
"Whaddya want?" A voice grunted on the other end.  
"Larry?" The Joker barked.  
"Y-yes Boss?" The voice changed from a grunt to a fearful whine.  
"We need a new plan."  
He slammed the phone shut, face splitting into a huge grin. A bubble of laughter welled up inside him, bursting forth in an ear-piercing cackle. He spread his arms wide, greeting his beautiful city.  
His lip stung where the Bat had bit him, blood still leaking from the wound. His body burned with a new set of emotions, new desires which his Batsy had awoken. He knew what he wanted now, and for once it wasn't chaos or destruction or stolen goods.  
Batman may have escaped, but this wasn't the end. One day, the Joker would bring him over, send Batsy as mad as he was. And then he, the Joker, the Clown Prince of Crime, would have the last laugh.


End file.
